ZaDr : Enemies and Allies
by AllEvil669
Summary: I guess what made us love Dib and Zim was their ridiculous ways and their childish rivalry. But, we can't expect them to stay that way forever. Haven't you ever asked yourself, "what happens once they grow up?" Well, I did.
1. Chapter 1

I would like to explain that this is only rated M because it might contain content later on that could be considered best for mature audiences. Thank you.

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Dib's bedroom; 5:30 AM -

Dib sat back in his cushioned desk chair, still blinking to try and ward off the agitated tears gathering in his deep blue eyes after he flicked on the overhead light. He snatched his glasses off the edge of his desk before they fell off, swiping the back of hand over his eyes before actually putting them on. The blur passed as the lenses gave him blessed clarity of the room.

He groaned as his fatigue made it hard for him to concentrate on his leftover homework. God, did he not want to do it. Nothing like the homework left over after the weekend to make you realize how easy it is to distract you from it. Homework, the kryptonite of school children.

Damn it! Now he was being distracted by trying to come up with the best way to describe homework.

He set his elbows on the cool metal, pushing his computer out of the way to make room. Dib rested his head in the palm of his hand, digging his index finger into his temple irritably. What the hell was he supposed to write an essay on anyway? Sure there are probably thousands of things that he could write about, but once he sat down to do it, his sharpened pencil poised over the paper, his mind went as blank as printer paper.

Ah, the first world problems of a teenage boy.

Nothing quite like them to make you feel stupid. And before you know it pictures of starving kids in Africa are flashing before your eyes.

And distracting you from your damn homework!

He smashed his forehead into the desk. God, this was impossible. He was never going to get this done in time. The cool surface of the metal felt good against his brow, and soothed his headache. So, he decided to keep it there for just a moment longer.

He started to rhythmically kick the legs of his desk; the metallic echo usually helped him think. But, this morning was determined to give him a bad grade.

He heard a horrid scraping noise that rang throughout the small enclosed space. Metal against metal. The sound sent shivers up and down his spine, actually making him cringe. He stopped kicking, and he heard the small object fall to the floor. Curious, he slipped out of his chair, crouching under the desk that he's had since he was young; the thing was depressingly tiny compared to him now. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, searching around in the shadows for the item. His shoulder ran into his miserable excuse for a desk, and the thing smacked loudly into the wall before teetering back towards him just far enough to shed some light on the object, the reflective surface flashing brilliantly. He hissed at the pain in his shoulder, but snatched the shiny item anyway.

He surfaced, plopping back into his seat, scooting closer to the desk lamp to get a good look at it.

He recognized it almost immediately. It brought a quick smile to his face. The kind of smile you see on older couples, when they take a last look at the house they're selling, the house they've been living in for years. The smile you see on a mother who watches her children playing, happy they're growing up, but saddened by the constant reminder that one day they'll move out and easily forget her in her old age. One an old man has when looking at a picture of his deceased wife. This tiny piece of shrapnel from an old model spacecraft held several memories for Dib.

And all the memories rounded right back to the same person. Or, more accurately, same alien.

Zim.

Dib had to give that guy one thing, he was admirably persistent. Ever since Zim had set foot on Earthen soil, he was determined to enslave the human race. It had actually been a frightening prospect when Dib was still like, ten years old. But, he's grown since then. And not only age-wise, he also grew to be 6"2. Sure, he was only weighing in at 130 lbs, but weight didn't matter when Zim would be looking at his chest if he stared straight. It was always nice to poke fun at the shorter male, especially since Zim suffered from a terrible case of 'little dog' syndrome.

He ran his thumb across it's rough side, being careful not to apply too much pressure so as to avoid receiving a nasty cut. The side of the Irken spacecraft had been blow up by Dib in one of their more exceptionally dangerous and outrageous shenanigans. He had found the piece before running off, hoping to figure out more about the alien technology. The minuscule debris served its purpose and must have been cast aside as nothing more then a reminder of the past. Which meant very little to a driven thirteen year old boy.

Dib was a tad bit surprised to find himself warmed by the memory. Those were certainly the days. He was never one of those outcasts with nothing to do on the weekends, or weekdays for that matter. Between his favorite show, Mysterious Mysteries - which had unfortunately(in his opinion) been cancelled - and Zim, it was practically impossible to get bored. He had to admit, that green skinned moron certainly does keep you on your toes.

Now, maybe it was Dib's epiphany that even if he didn't try to stop him Zim he would never succeed in ruling the world that ruined their rich game of rivalry. Maybe it was the fact that he grew up, and found more important things to occupy his attention. Whatever the reason, Zim and Dib stopped fighting. Now, they still have their arguments, but it rarely travels into nuclear bomb territory like it used to. In fact, many would call them friends. Dib wasn't certain what they were. Friends seemed too intimate for them. Friends tell each other stuff right? Not Zim and Dib. But, they spent most of their time together, so the enemies title definitely expired.

Dib had decided on what he was going to call them about three years ago. What he likes to call, allies.

They never spoke about what they did in their bases. Though Dib was pretty certain, like himself, Zim had grown tired with the game. The spark was gone. They were disinterested and nothing was succeeding in making them interested.

Dib wasn't certain if that fact made him sad or if it made him happy. At least it meant he wouldn't be getting very nearly mortally wounded every week. Sure, if you were a thrill seeker it was a thousand times better then roller coasters, but goddamn was it tiresome. All the planning, the amount of effort they put into everything.

He heaved a sigh, not certain was to do with the debris now. Did it mean anything anymore?

"Dib!"

Dib executed an excellent five foot jump in the air, yelping in surprise at his little sister's yell. "Jesus, Gaz! What the hell?!"

"Have you even looked at a damn clock?!," her voice came out muffled on the other side of the door. "It's time to go!"

Dib looked up at his clock and hissed a swear under his breath. "Damn... Alright! I'm on my way!"

"Hurry up, Dib!"

Dib rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. Gaz was so impatient. "One second, Gaz! Don't get your panties in a twist!" He heard her huff outside the door, but she didn't say anything else.

He sighed with relief. Her yell had been so loud he was sure if he hadn't already been awake, that harpy-like screech would have cut through the fog like there was no freaking tomorrow. Gaz was gonna make some unlucky guy very confused one day...

Dib took one last look at his long forgotten homework. He considered just leaving it at home and telling his teacher he lost it, ask for a new one so he wouldn't have a nice 'F' on his report card to show his father. But, decided that was a lame excuse, and there was no way he'd have enough time to come up with a better one. So, he tossed the shard of spacecraft into a desk drawer, grabbed his pencil and quickly scribbled a, "Sorry. Had no time," in the middle of the page. He dropped the pencil onto the desktop while he searched wildly for a stapler. The pencil rolled off the desk as he stapled the writing page and the work pamphlet together. He ignored how off-kilter he stapled them, stuffed them in his book bag, shrugged on his trench coat, shoved his feet into his boots, and raced out the door. Gaz was right on his tail, her long legs letting her catch up easily.

"Taking your time today, Dib?," she sneered, glaring at him. Professor Membrane was overprotective of Gaz, so she wasn't allowed to head out for school unless Dib was escorting her. So, every time Dib got them there late, she made him make it up to her. He hoped they weren't going to be late today. He was not in the mood for detention, or Gaz terrorizing him for weeks.

"If we're late...," she threatened, curling her hands into fists. "Don't worry, Gaz, we won't be," Dib said in a calmer tone of voice then he felt like using.

And sure enough, leaning against a stop sign, the certain alien who was now going to be responsible for bringing his English grade down even farther, Zim locked eyes with him. Dib tried hard not to glare. It really was his own fault that he couldn't concentrate, but it was just instinct for Dib to blame him for pretty much everything. Since Zim did it to him, it was only fair...

Zim pushed off the stop sign, that was no longer a bright red, but had been spray painted black months ago. Dib had won a bet on how soon the authorities would notice and deal with it. Just like Dib had said, they completely ignored it, and to this day it was still pitch black. Zim nodded in the direction of Dib, and stuck his tongue out at Gaz. Gaz snapped out and grabbed the snake-like organ, squeezing it with all her might. "Don't do that, pea body. Next time you do it, you won't be getting it back."

Zim growled at her and pinched his lips together, just barely letting out a mumbled, "Disobedient earth worm..."

Gaz rolled her eyes towards the sky, showing one of the only mannerisms her and Dib share. "Ugly green skinned freak..."

Dib grabbed the back of Zim's shirt, pulling him just enough out of reach of his little sister, claws extended near her face. "Hey, leave my baby sister alone, Zim." Gaz stalked away from Zim, but yelled back at Dib from over her shoulder, "I'm not a baby anymore, Dib!"

Zim chuckled at her reaction, but then glared up at Dib. "Let go of me, Dib-stink."

Dib reluctantly let go as they continued walking. The silence was almost solid, so Dib attempted conversation. "Come up with any diabolical plans?"

"I've been working on something. What? You think I'm getting lazy like you, Dib-stink?," the small threat in his tone was answered by a shrug from Dib. "Well, I haven't! I have something! Yes, I do!"

Well, even if Zim had stopped in the invader department, there was no way he was leaving the dramatic department.

Dib rubbed his temple. This was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 2

Skool; 6:42 PM -

Dib slipped into his first class with Zim, his book bag feeling heavy on his shoulder. He was righting it uncomfortably while Zim chatted on and on about some random stuff Dib had been toning out for half an hour.

The chatter among the other students was almost deafening. One nerdy looking girl in the corner seemed to think screaming was how to speak to someone right next to her, which forced others to also raise their voice so as to hear their conversations. Then one blonde boy in the middle aisle seemed to be trying to talk to everyone in the room at once. Damn, was that annoying.

Dib swung his bag around in front of him, pulling out a(thankfully) finished pamphlet of homework. Ms. Archer would make anyone's life a living hell if they didn't keep up with their homework. He started looking through it one last time to make sure all of it was complete.

"Dib-stink? Dib! Are you even listening to me?!," Zim yelled in Dib's ear, making him cringe into the folds of his jacket.

Ignoring Zim's comment, he waved the homework in Zim's face. "If you keep avoiding your homework you're going to get in some deep shit." Zim had left his homework at his house, unfinished. Dib gave Zim an I'm-better-then-you look, before slapping the stapled pieces of paper into Ms. A's homework basket.

"Why would I lower myself to your levels, Dib-beast? I am on a mission, remember? Or are you too stupid to keep up?" Zim had a teasing look on, trying his hardest to piss Dib off, maybe put a little bit of excitement in the day. The look was lost on the other boy, Dib only answering with an eye roll, simply making his way through the aisles, dodging spit-balls, paper airplanes, etc'...

Dib sat in the back of the messy classroom, one of the few who refused to lean too far back in his seat, fearful of the germs he might encounter on the floor. He tugged his sleeves over his elbows, before leaning them on one of the many desks that appeared as though the janitor didn't realize water in a spray bottle is never enough. He covered his ears with his hands, trying to block out the gossip-filled conversation going on between a flock of girls in front of him. Something about Tin going 'lezbo', and Poc getting fat after Xena dumped him. Dib didn't want to know. The frivolous drivel was far from interesting. He had been the victim of such crude retelling of people's secrets and personal life, knowing how much it sucks when you make one mistake and you shoot down the social ladder.

God, was he happy he got out of all that while he still could.

Finally, Ms. Archer came in, her ashen hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Alright class, take your seats." She didn't even wait for the room to quiet, knowing not a single student would dare speak after she had declared class in session. And if they did, she'd be eager to discipline them. But as always, the room went silent as quick as cars slow down when a police officer drives by. She sighed, as though disappointed no one tried to make a stand against her order.

She stalked up to the front of the classroom, dropping her bundle of things on her desk as the noise in the room slowly started to decrease in volume even further. Even the general sniffs, squeaks, creaks, and shuffling started to end. She plopped down in her chair, rifling through the scattered pamphlets of homework, scanning the printed names in the top left-hand corner, and scrutinizing the answers. Her thin face pinched in annoyance as she flicked a wad of old gum off of an abused one.

She finally stopped, glaring at the absent pamphlet. "Zim!," Dib hid a chuckle behind his hand at how the alien jumped. "I see you haven't been turning in homework. Care to explain?"

Zim glared daggers at her, "I have more important things to do then...homework...," he said the word with so much disgust, even for Zim. Though Dib wanted to tell everyone in class just to humiliate him, he had promised he wouldn't spread Zim's secret. (Zim actually didn't understand almost any of the curriculum. Dib had offered to teach him, but Zim had refused. Proud bastard...)

Ms. Archer rolled her eyes, unfazed by Zim. "I want homework turned in more often. Understood?" She glared back, unaffected by his hatred for her. She didn't like Zim very much. The feeling was definitely mutual.

Once they finished glaring and she got along with the lesson, Dib punched Zim gently on the arm. "I told ya' so..." Zim hissed angrily in response. Dib only laughed. Zim was so funny to mess with.

After what seemed like ages, Ms. A dismissed everyone, a second before the bell actually went off. It had always bothered all her students. They were all pretty sure she took great pleasure in that. Dib and Zim stopped by her desk, taking their homework. The moment a kid stepped in front of her she would effortlessly come up with something they needed to improve on. Zim's was pretty easy to guess. Dib's was to be more original. Apparently his teachers were beginning to hate his outer space speculation to such degrees that they were willing to give him a bad grade for it. Damn...

Zim tried to glare holes in the thin paper, his glove making an unpleasant noise against it. The sound made even worse by their transition to the hallways, the acoustics making it echo. "What brainless moron came up with homework anyway?! They should be punished for such a crime!" Zim seemed beyond ready to feed it to a pack of wild dogs.

Dib shrugged, a tad ashamed to admit stabbing the pamphlet with his eyes a bit also. "I guess that's just life for ya'."

Zim looked up from the paper, watching Dib set the homework in his bag with an expression the teen boy couldn't place. "Y'know, Dib. You used to come up with amusing conspiracy theories about some of the most commonplace items. 'Sticking it to the man' and such like that."

A head of black hair bobbed in a curt nod, "Yeah. And everyone hated them. So, I stopped. What's your point?"

The alien stood straighter, throwing his shoulders back in an attempt to look impressive. And failing in Dib's opinion. "It made up for the boring grunts you string together in a miserable impression of words and sentences." Dib crossed his arms across his chest, and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. Zim continued, "Your theories were...interesting. And happily reminded me time and time again how superior my race is to yours." Dib pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering out, "My ass...," but was ignored. "They were also appealing in that they assisted me in hating things."

Dib stared at Zim, disbelieving. "You're telling me you liked my conspiracy theories because they made it easier for you to hate things? Seriously?"

Zim nodded, before waving the pamphlet in the other male's face, much the same way Dib had done earlier. "And I need a really good reason to hate this one. Now make yourself useful, Human."

Dib smacked the homework away from his face, the tiny flicks from the paper's edge making his nose itch terribly. "Well, get it out of my face and maybe I will." Zim finally did so, slowly walking in the direction of his next class. Very much willing to get there late just to have a justified reason to rid himself of the filthy, pointless homework.

Dib rubbed just below his eyebrow in thought. "Well... I don't know what it is you want me to say Zim..."

"Just make me hate it! You've done it before!" Zim pressed his lime green lips into a grim line. He knew he'd never be able to forgive himself for inflicting the wrath of Ms. Archer without a good alibi.

Dib groaned, "You already do hate it! What, am I supposed to say they keep tracking chips in them just so they can storm your house in the middle of the night?!"

Zim nodded eagerly. "You're getting warmer..."

"Well, you know what, Zim? They only make homework so as to distract us from the big picture. Make us look past everything they're infecting us with. All the poison, all the lies. They would prefer us to spend our days and nights pondering arithmetic rather then demanding answers to all the unanswered questions. They want us to lie right under the radar so they can run our lives just the way they want us to live it. Now, are you gonna let them control you?" Dib was actually breathless after his speech.

Zim stared, looking almost mystified. Then he grinned triumphantly. "Well, now was that so hard? I knew you weren't completely useless." Zim snickered at Dib's rolling eyes. He swears that boy is going to have his whole eye just roll out of his skull one day. "You inconsiderate...," Dib trailed off.

Zim, not truly caring what Dib had to say, simply took the homework firmly in his hands, said a boorish farewell in his native tongue, then promptly ripped it in two and squashed the rest of into a crude ball. Dib just stared. Zim compressed it as far as he could and then tossed it into the nearest garbage receptacle.

Dib just shook his head, "I can't believe you..."

"Well, learn. I know you're too stupid to truly understand, but it will be ever so funny to watch you try." He gave Dib his cheekiest grin, before gripping the doorknob to his next class. "Well, as the people of that smelly country say, adieu," and he disappeared into Mr. Cork's math session.

Dib found himself suppressing the urge to dig the pamphlet out of the trash and finish it so that Zim wouldn't get in trouble. He tried his very hardest not to do so. Zim needed to learn his lesson. Maybe Ms. Archer would have some sort of impact. Though, he was pretty certain from his experience with the invader that it was one hell of a long-shot. Honestly, if Ms. Bitters couldn't do it, then who could?

Dib turned the corner and walked right into a gut punch.

He doubled over, and grabbed onto the handle of someone's locker to keep him from falling hard on his knees.

'Wow. Smitty's strong... Was he always that strong?,' Dib thought, bitterly. A chorus of laughter brought him back to the present. "Jeez, Dib. Are you always that elegant?" Smitty was rewarded with big bouts of dopey chuckles. The sound was like sandpaper against sandpaper in Dib's ears.

He looked up at the larger male, trying to straighten out. "Jeez, Smitty. Did your boyfriend help you get those big muscles?"

Smitty's face turned a hideous shade of red, and he punched Dib in the face with much more force then the weaker teen had been expecting. 'Yep. He got stronger,' Dib had just enough time to think before crumpling to the floor.

Dib could taste the thick iron coating on his tongue. The strike had ripped open his cheek, all thanks to Smitty's ring. And that would have been all, if Dib hadn't accidentally bit the inside of his cheek. Now he could feel the thick liquid pooling in his mouth, trickling its way onto the recently cleaned floor. The smell of bleach was just potent enough to mesh unpleasantly with the blood.

"You know, I was going to ask about your boyfriend. Finally dropped Zim off at his class period? I'm sure he appreciated the escort. It really was sweet of you, Dib." Smitty's sneakers squeaked against the laminated floors as he took three long strides to stand in front of Dib. Dib raised his head not even an inch off the floor, enough to see Smitty crouch, balancing on the balls of his feet. Without even a warning, Smitty snatched up a fistful of Dib's hair and dragged his front up to stare the other boy in the face.

A smile broke out on Smitty's face, an almost wolfish grin. "It's amazing, Dib."

Dib spat out some blood and drool, but he feared that it didn't actually make it anywhere farther then his shirt. "What is?"

"You almost look better with a fucked up face." He laughed at his own jeers, the rest of his crew only catching on once he started cackling like a hyena. 'Retards. They couldn't tie their own shoes without their mothers and Smitty.'

"Too bad I've always been the Cinderella of the school," Dib glared. He was used to the treatment. Back when this started up, he tried to fight back. He quickly learned that fighting back only brought the other goons into the mix. And he'd rather play back-'n-forth with Smitty any day.

Smitty was like a bad Bond villain. He had dark brown hair he always slicked back, with one lock protruding at the front, and green eyes. He is Caucasian, though his skin seemed to have a natural spray tan look. He always dressed in clothing that showed off how "tough" he is. Really all he was doing was showing off his biceps to attract girls' attention. But, what really made him out as a Bond villain was the simple fact that he liked to talk while. He seemed to feel like it gave him a nice sense of dignity. God knew the boy could really use it.

"Yes. It's quite the shame your father refused to teach you what gender you are." Smitty tsked, shaking his head back and forth. "I'm sure you were crushed when he told you that it's frowned upon for you to want to be a fairy princess." More rowdy laughter.

Dib rubbed his chin against the only part of his shoulder he could reach in his uncomfortable position. He was pretty sure he was drooling badly. "Don't you know Smitty, I never stopped being a fairy princess." Smitty's brow furrowed in confusion. But before he could ask, Dib leaned in closer and whispered, "Only straight boys can see my wings."

Smitty shot to his feet faster then a rocket, throwing Dib off the floor too, still holding locks of his hair. He rammed his knee right into Dib's stomach. He did so again and then hissed, "I'm not gay!"

Dib opened his mouth to retort, but his intestines felt like they were in the wrong places. He wanted to regurgitate everything he'd ever eaten. He let out a pathetic whimper, the noise encouraging Smitty. He grabbed the front of Dib's shirt, readjusted his hold on Dib's hair. "Make a wish, princess."

Dib was thrust into the cold, thick metal of the locker. He fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

He didn't want to look, fearful of the pain that might erupt from the two black eyes he could just detect developing. He didn't pay much mind which direction Smitty and his gang ran off to. It didn't matter. As long as they were going away, Dib was content. They probably said something to put lemon juice on his new wounds, but he toned it out. All he could truly concentrate on other then the agony, was the broken glasses sitting in his hand.

What fabrication was he going to conjure up this time for Professor Membrane's benefit? He could barely think. His head felt like someone had crushed it with ten tons of force. Then again, considering Smitty's muscle gain, you never know. His neck went limp, and he just let his head droop, his chin almost nestled in his chest. He wanted to sleep. God, he was so damn tired. Did he have a concussion? He worried he might. Could he still feel everything correctly? He wasn't certain, it was kind of hard to concentrate on really anything. His head was aching, and his vision was swirling without the aid of his glasses.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?!"

The voice very nearly split Dib's head in two. He almost cried out in pain as the footfalls of the person got heavier, faster. Finally the body fell next to him, suddenly speaking in lower tones that were actually quite soothing.

"Can you feel your limbs? Move your fingers and toes?" Dib deciphered it was a girl from the high-pitched voice. Dib tried his hardest to answer, but his words were quieter then he thought they were, sometimes even a bit slurred. He tried to open his eyes, but the area around them felt baked and bruised, so he gave up after the first time.

She sighed, "Alright, I got to get you to the nurse. Can you stand?" Without waiting for an answer, she wrapped an arm around his waist, slung his arm over her shoulders, and then heaved him to his unsteady feet with amazing strength. Dib almost threw up, and was undeniably convinced that if anyone even slightly less skilled then this girl had attempted to help, he would have. Dib tried his hardest to walk on his own, but couldn't muster up enough power to keep up with the girl's pace. So, he finally gave in and allowed the girl to carry him there. It was astounding that she could do so. She wasn't even faltering one bit as he went completely lame.

Dib wasn't certain if he just blanked it out, or if he actually passed out for a second. All he was truly conscious of was one moment the girl was helping him to the nurse's office, and then he was laying down on one of the plastic covered beds, the nurse tenderly cleaning the blood off of his face with a soft pad of cloth dosed in hydrogen peroxide.

"You seem to have a concussion, Dib. I know you have probably figured that one out for yourself, but it's always nice to have a professionals opinion." The nurse shuffled around to the other side of the bed, and started speaking to the girl who had brought Dib there in the first place. He just realized she had a hand on his arm, giving him comforting squeezes. "Dear, you can leave if you would like. I have everything covered."

"Alright. I'll just be a second longer. You said he'd be here for the rest of the school day, right?" There was more shuffling, like the nurse was just shifting loud enough to simply be audible. "Yep. After school I'll toss him on a bus and make sure he gets home safe and sound, with a clean face and a directional paper pinned to his shirt."

Dib would have rolled his eyes if it hadn't been agonizing to do so.

The girl leaned down close to Dib's ear, and whispered in that soothing, hushed tone, "My name's Disona. Is there anyone you'd like to have know where you are? I can tell them during the lunch period."

Dib cleared his throat painfully, but it seemed to do the trick for him to mutter out, "Zim. Tell Zim."

Disona squeezed his hand, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. "Alright, I'll make sure he's told. You rest now." A few moments later she left, the nurse calling after her, "Thanks for bringing him!"

Dib wished Disona was still there holding his hand. It had been unbelievably comforting. Now the small office felt unfamiliar and cold.

The nurse messed with some things on the counter. Dib could hear pills rattling in bottles, plastic scraping against the counter-top. "Don't you worry, Dib. I've dealt with a lot worse in my day, so trust me when I tell you that with some medicine and rest you'll feel brand new." Dib almost scoffed. "Now, do you think you can swallow some pills for me?"


End file.
